


Be A Man About It

by dogfighter3000



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotp, Dean is a good bro, Gen, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, Kid Winchesters, Sick Sam Winchester, bro feels, good ones though don't worry, just a clusterfuck of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogfighter3000/pseuds/dogfighter3000
Summary: Sam is sick and Dean just wants to hunt. After lipping off at his dad he gets stuck home to take care of his brother and eventually learns how to just be a man about it.





	

With a loud groan he threw his arms in the air in a spectacular, over-exaggerated gesture of how 'totally unfair' this 'BS situation' was.

Dean knew better than to argue with his father, but it didn't stop him from trying regardless. It was bad enough that most of his year was spent wasting time in school, now he had to stay at home during winter break too? There was a report of some lady's husband dying during some freak power surge. The lights flashing on and off and suddenly her husband was just dead. It was a real routine hunt and just in the next state over too, John figured he could knock out whatever spooky specter that was residing in that house and then be back a few days before Christmas so he could spend some more time with his boys.

"It's just some lousy ghost, right??"

"Well, Yes Dean, but I said-"

"I know, I know! You said it'll take 4 days at the very least but if I came with you we could knock this thing out twice as fast and be back home for Sammy!" Dean was desperate to go on this case. They had been at this place for nearly two months now and with school taking up all his time he hadn't been out on an actual hunt in what seemed like forever. "C'mon, dad! Sammy is almost a teenager now! He can watch himself for 2 or 3 days,"

"He's sick Dean! You can't just leave your poor brother here while he's sick," His calm facade slipping, John's voice slowly started to rise in volume and intensity. "You're going to stay here with your brother and that's an order, Dean!" He yelled, voice ringing out through the now silent motel room as Dean's protests fell silent. Standing there rigid, like he had been frozen in place. He watched his dad sigh in agitation before resuming packing his bag. His movements were sharp and angry and the older of his two sons felt like shit because his dad was mad at him now. He was given an order and he refused to obey it. In the midst of his bitter thoughts, he heard the squeaky-hinged door to the attached room slowly open. They had gotten a larger room this time, one with a small attached room with another set of beds and a second bathroom. John had won a game of poker and had enough money to get them a nicer room for a week or two as a Christmas gift. When the door had opened up wide enough a messy mop of brown hair popped out, sleepy hazel eyes peeking out from beneath his shaggy bangs. Dean immediately softened his stance when he saw him, he hadn't meant to wake him up with this stupid argument.

"Dad? Dean?" Sam asked quietly, his voice scratchy and low from a mix of just waking up and being sick. A smirk playing across his lips the older brother made his way over to him and ruffled his hair gently.

"What are you doin' outta bed, dork?" He asked playfully, chuckling softly when the shorter huffed and shoved Dean's hand off of his head stubbornly. No matter what, he could never stand it when he was treated like a little kid, even if he kind of liked playing around and arguing with his older brother sometimes.

"Kind of hard to sleep when you and dad are out here having a screaming match about me," As soon as the words left his mouth both Dean and John stiffened up slightly, guilt hitting them like a brick wall. They had let their argument get loud enough to wake the baby.

"I'm sorry, Sam. Go and head back to bed alright? I gotta get going before it starts raining," The eldest of the Winchesters mumbled, setting his bag down so he could walk over and bring his youngest son into a tight hug, ruffling his messy hair. Turning to his other son his face went from soft to more hard and stern. "Dean. Lock the doors, don't open the door for anyone, and-"

"Take care of Sammy. I know, dad," The teen grumbled as he swayed forward the slightest bit, almost expecting a hug despite knowing that he's not going to get one. Gripping his duffel bag tight, John turns tail and heads to the door, on his way to the Chevy Impala that's parked across the sidewalk.

"Be good boys!" John calls out as he gives a short wave before opening the door, a cool burst of air rushing in, and then it was closed again and it was quiet. Listening carefully, both of the boys could hear the familiar rumble as the car started up and then the fading sound of her engine as she drove off. It wasn't until he heard Sam's teeth chattering that Dean looked over at him finally. Quickly moving into action he opened the door to the dark room where his brother had been sleeping.

"Dean, stoppit, I'm fine," the younger mumbled, even as he said it his sentence ended with a hacking cough and a sniffle that proved he was obviously not 'fine.' Rolling his eyes he pulled the comforter off of his own clean bed and wrapped it around the smaller boy's shoulders.

"Yeah. If you call getting chills over a slight draft and then choking on your own lung fine," he mumbled as he directed Sam back to the other room where the couch and TV where at. "Listen, since you're sick this once I'll let you pick what we watch on TV," Dean muttered as he pulled out a pot from the small cabinet underneath the counter top. Boy, the look on Sammy's sweet little face was probably brighter than the sun as he shuffled, thin motel blanket and all over to sit on the couch to flip through the channels excitedly. It was worth watching even the dumbest show that was ever created to see his brother happy like that.

Pulling his eyes away from the monumental abundance of blankets heaped on the couch he got to cooking the soup their father always concocted when any of them were sick. It basically consisted of the spiciest possible things he could find and then mixed in with chicken broth and chunks of whatever meat was in the fridge. Luckily they had a few morsels of a rotisserie chicken they had eaten a night or two ago. Dean wasn't one for cooking but he did it almost every night seeing as he had his sibling to take care of while his only parent was constantly out and about. Once the broth and spices were set on the stove to boil the older Winchester made his way over to where Sam was sitting and glanced over at the TV. The Simpsons were on and the dirty blonde couldn't help but snort.

"What? What's wrong with this? It's really funny," Sammy mumbled, trying to sound frustrated that his brother is making fun of his choice of shows but it sounded like a half-hearted attempt, seeing as he was too enthralled in the show to pay any more attention to heckling his older brother.

"Nothing, nothing. Just kinda figured you would pick something dumb like this," Dean teased, sitting down on the couch next to him and only vaguely paying attention to the yellow characters jumping around across the screen. Too busy watching the pot for the water that would soon be boiling, he barely noticed when the mound of blankets slowly started to lean over against his side until Sam was full-on leaning against his shoulder. Normally he would have chastised him for being such a little kid or being so touchy but he knew that he had been having a rough week, barely able to keep anything down and not able to sleep from the coughing fits he would get from laying down. About to wrap an arm around his little brother, he stopped abruptly when he heard the tell-tale sound of water splashing out of a pot and hitting the stove with a loud hiss. Lurching off of the couch he ran to the small, rickety stove and turned the heat back so the stock settled enough for him to throw the chicken in and let it simmer for a little while.

"Everything good?" Sam croaked, peeking around the edge of his comforter cocoon to view what was going on.

"Yeah, I was too distracted with your dumb cartoon is all," He poked fun before sitting back down and letting the brunette curl back up against his side, his own arm resting on top of him. "You better not be falling asleep or I'll have to throw a cup of ice water on you to wake you up," Dean murmured, gripping his shoulder and shaking him a bit, the smaller boy grumbling irately in response making him grin.

"S'not my fault I got sick.." Sam whined, punching him in the side weakly. He was too sick for the hit to actually effect the older of the two. Cracking a smile, Dean patted his shoulder before getting up off of the couch so he could dish out some soup into a bowl. Once he had moved the food off of the heat and filled the dish he tugged the stained coffee table closer to the couch to put his brother's food on so he wouldn't need to move to the table for supper.

"Alright," the hunter-in-training announced. "Dad's cure-all chicken soup. With enough spice to clear your sinuses for life," He grinned, setting the bowl onto the table as he sat back down. The sick boy looked down at the bowl curiously before huffing grumpily and slumping onto the couch. Rolling his eyes, the blonde held up the spoon, shoving it towards him. "Don't make me do the airplane noises."

"I'm not three anymore, Dean," Sam jeered before shoving at the spoon hovering in front of his face spilling the hot broth into Dean's lap. "I feel sick. I don't want your dumb soup," He mumbled, curling into a ball facing the television so his back was towards Dean.

Despite his anger at his brother being so stubborn the teen was determined to make his little brother eat at least a little something he shove the table to the side and got down on his knees so he was blocking the view of the TV, a stern look on his face. With the most sober face he could muster he grabbed the bowl and held up another spoonful of his father's concoction and started making airplane noises and swerving the spoon around so it started to near Sam's mouth. There was a brief struggle of trying to hide his smile before the smaller of the two started laughing at how ludicrous his older brother looked as he acted like he was feeding a toddler. The second his mouth was open wide enough Dean shoved the spoon in, grinning in satisfaction.

"You're so ridiculous, you know that? And you look stupid."

"I got you to eat, didn't I?" Dean gloated as he reclaimed his seat and held another mouthful up for Sam, this time the food was accepted without hesitation. "I'm gonna feed you the rest of the soup, do I have to make the noises or are you gonna be a man about it?" Sam glared at him before taking another mouthful of the concoction. They sat like that for a while. Dean's legs folded underneath him, facing Sam as he watched cartoons and opened his mouth for the occasional bite of soup. When the bowl was empty he got up to start putting away the untouched soup on the stove and cleaning the dishes. "How's it settlin'?"

"I feel fine. Could use a glass of milk or something, though," Sam hummed, looking up with big round puppy dog eyes.

"What am I? Your man servant? Get it yourself, twerp," He scoffed in response, a smirk playing across his lips before turning back to the ladle he was scrubbing down. Behind him he could hear a groan as someone stood up, the sound of small feet walking over towards him, and then the punch that landed on his side.

"Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean retorted, flicking the water on his hands at Sam. When the brunette flinched away from the spray of warm water he tossed the blanket up over the top of his head as a shield before sliding to the other end of the kitchen on his socks. "You can't escape me, Sammy," He grinned as he grabbed the damp towel he had been wiping off the clean dishes with. Sam's eyes widened in fear when he saw his older brother twist the towel and get ready to let it fly in a whipping motion that he knew would probably leave a bruise where ever it hit. With a yell he dropped the comforter wrapped around him like a cape and ran by, barely dodging the first strike of the hand towel as he stopped to grab a towel for himself.

"You dick! Stop!" Sam shrieked, narrowly missing being at the end of the make shift whip. While Dean was rolling his towel up for another hit, the smaller Winchester struck, barely brushing up against his leg.

"Hey! Watch your mouth, mister," He smirked knowing very well that it was a hypocritical statement seeing as the blonde was known to have quite the mouth on him as well. Their chase led back to the living room area where the TV was still playing. Dodging another smack of the cloth Dean finally managed to land a hit. With a loud yelp the shorter boy ran off into the room slamming the door behind him, hand pressed against what he assumed was already turning into a red welt as he shimmied underneath the edge of the bed as the door opened back up with a loud bang. Dean searched the room panting and grinning from ear to ear as he spun the towel in circles. When he was in between the bed and the floor he quickly pulled the sheet up so he could look underneath. Wrong bed. Sam made his move as he squeezed halfway out from under the piece of furniture and got Dean right in the side of his backside making him curse and start as the brunette whooped and sprinted back into the living room. "Get back here you little shit!"

"Never!!" Sam called back unable to contain his amusement as he jumped up on the couch balling up his dish towel and tossing it at Dean's face when he ran out of the bedroom. It didn't slow him at all and they ended up ditching the cloths and wrestling until the younger Winchester was caught in a head lock while his brother relentlessly messed with his shaggy hair, ruffling it up. All until coughs wracked his small body and he couldn't breath and was wheezing for air. Sam hadn't realized he had been carried to the bathroom until he caught enough breath to open his eyes, looking out through the blurry tears there. Raising an eyebrow at the green eyed teen he didn't want to ask why he was rummaging through the cabinets out of the fear of another flare-up. When Dean noticed his questioning look he gave him a strained smile.

"Looking for the coughing meds. You sounded like you were about to keel over," He mumbled trying to keep the worry out of his voice. It was his fault for riling him up with all the play fighting. His brother needed more rest, not a choke hold. In the middle of his hacking he had carried him over into the bathroom, setting him on the counter as he desperately searched for the bottle of syrupy red liquid that would hopefully make everything better. Finally finding it in the back of the cabinet he sighed in relief before measuring out a cap-full and handing it over. "Chug this down and then take a bath or somethin'. You need to get some more sleep," Dean ordered as he made sure Sam drank all the contents of the lid from the medicine ignoring the face he made at the bitter taste.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam croaked trying to keep his throat from sounding as raw and scratchy as it felt. It was unconvincing and the larger male frowned, tossing a clean towel from the shelf at his head.

"This is the first time in days that you've managed to keep down a solid food. Even if you're getting better, you're still not fine," The older Winchester had always been stubborn and that wasn't going to change as he closed the bathroom door behind him and set the bottle of cough syrup on the nightstand next to Sam's bed before going back to cleaning up dinner.

Throwing the worn, white towel at the door after Dean left through it, Sam balled up his fists and huffed grumpily. He was fine and absolutely fed up with being forced to lie in bed. Stripping out of his clothes he started up the shower and hopped in only to flinch away from the spray for the first few seconds when the water was still icy. As the the shower finally heated up to a comfortable temperature he stood there with his arms crossed, letting his bangs drip down and cover his eyes as he soaked in the warmth. The comfort of the drops hitting his back and the steam billowing around him he nearly fell asleep, only being awoken when he started to tip over his head hitting the shower wall with a loud thud that could be heard even in the kitchen. Cursing under his breath he rubbed at the now sore spot on the side of his head, shutting the shower off and wrapping himself in the towel he had thrown across the small room a second ago. Just as he got the warm piece of cloth situated comfortably around his shoulders he heard a loud knock at the door, making him wince.

"You good in there? Need to call the ambulance?" Dean's muffled voice asked through the door.

"No! Go away!" he yelled with a roll of his eyes. Too stubborn to admit that he really did need some good shuteye and that he fell asleep and accidentally slammed his head into the wall.

"Alright, alright! Chill out, princess," His brother's voice got quieter as he walked back out of the room. With a sigh Sam slipped into his night clothes and walked out of his room to get a glass of water, passing Dean who was sitting on the couch with a beer and watching some old western movie with gunshots that made the space behind his eyes pulse with pain.

"You know if dad found out you were drinking his booze when he's not here he'd flip his shit, right?" Sam muttered as he grabbed a cup.

"It's not like dad's friends haven't slipped me drinks here and there before. Besides, it's not like I'm too far away from the legal age."

"Five years, Dean. You're only sixteen," He huffed turning to face him throwing his arms down dramatically.

"Yeah, and twelve year-olds shouldn't be saying curse words either," Dean spat back before punctuating his sentence with a large gulp from the brown bottle in his hand. Huffing loudly Sam filled his cup up and stomped back into his room slamming the door behind him even though it just made his head ache even more. Not long after he had set his cup down next to the container of cough medicine and had buried himself underneath the covers of the bed did he fall asleep, glad to have a reprieve from how crappy he felt.

\----

It was around two in the morning when Dean heard the door slam. It was around ten minutes later when he heard a choked sob muffled by the doors between him and Sam when he was finally roused from his sleep. Sitting up from where he had fallen asleep on the sofa he looked around confused, not sure if he had actually heard something or if something from the realm of dreams had drifted over into the half-conscious state between slumber and being awake. A sniffle was all he needed to hear before he was slowly opening the door to the bed room, checking Sam's bed. Finding nothing but a pile of hastily thrown aside blankets and a soft glow coming from under the closed bathroom door he rushed over.

"Sammy? You good in there?" Dean said softly, rapping his knuckle on the door as quietly as he could. With his ear pressed against the cool wood of the so he could hear Sam shuffle and sigh.

"Go away. I'm fine," He mumbled, his voice sounding rough. It was only seconds after he said those few words that he was gripping the toilet seat again and heaving what he could only assume was stomach acid at this point out. Not heeding Sam's warming Dean busted in, glad to see that his little brother hadn't locked him out but less excited to see the condition he was in. Finally done with retching until nothing came out the younger boy sat back on his heels, looking up at his brother with an uncomfortable, ashamed look on his face and tears in his eyes. Wiping off his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt he looked back down at the tile flooring of the crappy motel bathroom. His hair was sweaty and strands stuck to his flushed face, bags under his eyes from restless sleep. "I'm sorry.." He croaked out his throat burning too much for him to say anything more than that.

"Don't apologize. Let me go get you a glass of water.." Dean said awkwardly as he started scanning the other with his eyes, a habit to make sure he was alright. Other than being a little shaky the boy was fine and the older of the two grabbed the water cup on Sam's nightstand and went to get him a cup of cold water to soothe what he could only imagine was the beginnings of a sore throat. Hurrying back as he heard the sound of him choking again it was hard to see his brother arched over the toilet like that. Nothing was happening as he choked on air, the contents of his stomach already empty. Dean was right behind him, having moved to sit next to him and rub his back. Sam decided he disliked dry heaving even more than actually throwing up, seeing as it left him feeling like he was hit with a bus. 

"I hate this!" the small boy yelled as loud as his voice would let him which admittedly wasn't very loud right now. Even while his little brother slumped against the edge of the tub and folded his arms against his chest Dean continued to sit there.

"I know, I know," He mumbled before scooting so he could lean against the bath-tub next to Sam. "I brought you some water. Do I gotta force you to drink it or are you gonna be a man about it?" That comment managed to get a weak glare from the other while the taller held the cup up, grinning widely. Sam's hands were trembling slightly as he reached up to grab the cup and he took big gulps, draining nearly the whole cup. Dean eyed him warily as he set the cup down and scrunched up his face up in discomfort. "Pretty sure you're not supposed to drink that fast when you're pukin', Sammy.." That earned him another venomous glare. And sure enough not even five minutes later he was back to leaning over the side of the toilet, Dean's hands pulling his shaggy, brunette hair from falling in his face.

As the taller boy went to go get another cup of water he couldn't help but feel bad that he had been trying to ditch his little brother so he could go on a damn hunt tonight. He was glad his dad forced him to stay home now as he walked back into the bathroom to find Sam brushing his teeth.

"This time you should take it easy with how fast you drink," Dean mumbled as he pointed towards the cup he had just set down on the counter. Spitting out his toothpaste, Sam laughed without humour.

"Yeah, I kinda got that now," He mumbled once he had rinsed his mouth out. This time when he held the cup he took smaller sips, not drinking as much as he did the first time. The two of them found their way to the living room and switched on the TV, flicking through the channels when they came across an action movie that normally Sam wouldn't be old enough to watch. Judging by the puppy dog eyes already burning into the side of his head he knew Sam wanted to watch it. "Dean?"

"You gonna wet the bed if I let you watch this or are you gonna be a man about it?" That time it gets Dean a laugh

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this story! It's my first Supernatural fan-fiction and it was fun.
> 
> Anyways! I've had this idea in my head for so god damn long, you do not even know. Originally I wanted this to be a longer work instead of the short story that it turned out to be, but I'm ok with it being something small.
> 
> 3-21-17 EDIT: I came back and cleaned up spelling mistakes and fixed the wording! English is my first language but my dumbass still messes up hear and here
> 
> if you liked this I have another, much longer story comin' out soon! Not really any shipping but lots of family feels, so again, if you liked this then definitely check it out when I upload it! (pls I'm trying)) ) 
> 
> 3-13-18 EDIT: it's been a year since i last read this and i noticed that despite editing it twice before, there's still some mistakes. I went through and fixed this damn thing AGAIN. sorry for my incompetence lmao (I deadass think i went through and edited this and then forgot to save it, so it just stayed fucked up, i'm cryiNG)
> 
> ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!!!!! I LOVE Y'ALL!!!!


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